


Hostage

by smalld1171



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x16, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7989697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalld1171/pseuds/smalld1171
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short one-shot, added scene for 9x16 Bladerunners.  Dean's thoughts on the way back to the Impala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hostage

He stumbles periodically as they traipse through the foliage, leaving Magnus and his invisible museum of wacked-out-of-his-freakin-gourd in their dust.

The remnants of his union with the first blade still reverberates through the expanse of his body; power so strong that even now that the physical connection has been severed its echo remains. It causes his frame to shake and tremble as it slowly, almost painfully begins to abandon him; leaving the familiar hollow and ineffectual shell in its wake.

Annoyingly aware of the frequent backward glances from the other two thirds of their bizarre trio, he resists the temptation to lunge forward and punch each of them in the face; not really over thinking the reason why, but pretty damn sure that simple act would make him feel a hell of a lot better.

It's pissing him off; they think he doesn't notice, that he's so fricked up in the head that he can't see them, can't hear them conspiring, talking about him as if he's not even there. There are whispers, nodding of heads in his direction and wrinkled brows when he stops answering their queries in reference to his well being. Crowley's ugly mug looks like the proverbial cat that ate the unsuspecting canary and Sam's, well, he just looks tense and not quite sure whether his brother...no, whether his hunting partner can be trusted or is even playing with a full deck.

As violence would just make him look more off his game than they obviously already assume he is, he instead concentrates his efforts to keep the quiver in his arm negligible to their prying eyes, and attributes the unsteadiness in his legs to the sudden presence of uprooted trees in his path; nature hating expletives filling the air with each misstep.

Whether they are convinced or not he doesn't know and doesn't really give a shit, meandering along just behind them his eyes never stray far; kept hungrily focused on the beautiful blade inappropriately held hostage in Sam's hand.


End file.
